


Somewhere in the World

by kirinokisu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3666936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/pseuds/kirinokisu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima can't decide which is more terrible, the part where he's supposed to save the world or the part where he's supposed to do it with these people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere in the World

**Author's Note:**

> > Heavily inspired by the Final Fantasy franchise, but not really a FF AU. Mostly it's just borrowed names, similar locations and classic RPG elements. Also, monsters.  
> > Title from FFIV OST collection. Because how to title.

\- - -

Tsukishima observed his companions with a little bit of fascination, a lot more incredulity and an infinite amount of annoyance.

Squatted on a sunlit patch of dense leafy grass, the pair of them were fiddling with something at the edge of a tiny pond they'd chosen to build a camp around last night. Despite being surrounded by bushy evergreen ferns and tall lilies that blossomed in a variety of colours, the water in it remained so clear that the ancient snow white boulders at the bottom appeared fallaciously close. But try to reach them, and fall into unfathomable depths hiding creatures of myths and folk tales—Salikawood was not kind to ill-mannered intruders.

"Well, since the bait tactic is clearly not working," Kuroo said, picking up his crossbow from the ground, "I say we threaten them instead."

"Going on the offensive," Bokuto nodded sagely in agreement. "I like that."

Kuroo's eyes did not waver from the target as he bit his lower lip in predatory concentration. He pulled the bow string slowly, and it made a sharp snap when released. The bolt sunk with a quick splash and a chain of ripples across the pristine surface of the pond.

Recklessly abandoning caution in their eager anticipation, Kuroo and Bokuto leaned even closer in. Tsukishima could swear Bokuto's nose was hairbreadth away from touching the water. And yet, he doubted that either of them could be caught unaware and pushed towards their demise.

"Does that fish look positively offended to you," Kuroo muttered after a while of nothing happening.

Straightening back up to sit on his heels, Bokuto scratched his head in genuine wonder. "I think we hurt its fishy feelings."

Tsukishima snorted, regrettably audibly enough—Kuroo and Bokuto whipped around instantly, in sync.

"Oho, the sleeping beauty's finally awake," Kuroo said, lowering his weapon to the ground. Still crouched, he curled his fingers around the blunt handle of the crossbow and planted his chin on top, looking fairly amused.

"Your hair is even more atrocious than usual," Tsukishima told him.

Kuroo shrugged, unaffected and unapologetic. Beside him, Bokuto was all endless energy that was tiring to even just watch. "Such good timing, Tsukki!" he said. "We're about to catch some magical fish for breakfast. You might wanna get the fire starting."

Tsukishima made a face. "Stop calling me that."

"So grumpy," Kuroo drawled, leaning on the crossbow with that irritating knowing look on his face. "Are you just being mean or do you have some mind-blowing advice on fishing, _Tsukki_?"

Tsukishima's answering smile was obnoxiously bright and cheery. "No idea of mine could possibly be more mind-blowing than fishing with long range weapons, _Kuroo-san_."

"Just bare hands, actually," Kuroo said, refusing to raise to the bait. He pointed at Bokuto with his left thumb. "This guy's really fast, you know."

Tsukishima did know. He'd witnessed Bokuto catch and then pummel a nasty frog the size of a writing desk and the speed of a rabid bunny to death with his bare fists, despite having a pair of pretty jewelled daggers sheathed at his waist. He had, however, also witnessed Bokuto's latest stunt with poisonous ochu—its tentacles were so thick and firm it took a couple of fireballs to burn through them—and therefore had come to a tragic conclusion that the concept of _impossible_ , let alone _not advised_ , weren't part of Bokuto's world view.

During the past two weeks that they'd been forced to travel together, Tsukishima had gathered this: Bokuto and Kuroo were allegedly childhood friends, born and raised in one of the minor cities near Castle Karnak, at the heart of the Fire Country. It was proven true by the even tan of their skin and the trust they displayed during combat. How they met Akaashi, Tsukishima didn't know, didn't need to. All that mattered was that Akaashi was the voice of reason that wasn't just effective, but rained upon both Bokuto and Kuroo like divine judgement from the gods and monsters above and below.

"Hey, we could lure them with a fire spell!" Kuroo suddenly exclaimed, as if struck by a flash of unexpected brilliance. Tsukishima couldn't tell if he was being serious. _Surely not._

Bokuto broke out laughing. "Like that time we went hunting for maelspikes and you burned down the entire fish population to crisps?"

"It was a valuable learning experience," Kuroo protested indignantly. " _And an accident._ "

"It was a week of boiled seafood for breakfast, lunch and dinner," Bokuto corrected darkly. Kuroo chucked a lily at him.

And Tsukishima found himself wondering what in his seventeen years of life had he possibly done to deserve this.

But thoughts like these were from the start doomed to take a much darker turn, remind him of the utterly terrible situation they were all in. So Tsukishima pushed them away, focusing instead on the painful knots in his neck. A couple of languid head rolls eased some of the tension, and he rose up from the bedroll spread in the cover of massive oak roots protruding from warm, dry earth. Out of habit—as well as freshly gained experience with pesky local wildlife, Tsukishima rolled the thin mattress back into his satchel even before he reached for a flask of water to splash on his face.

Still drowsy from his nap, he squinted at the sun peeking through the crown of ancient trees. Their trunks were so tall and their branches wound so tightly together that they formed a perfectly arched roof high above—so high that it felt like the sky itself, illuminated by the soft rays of sunlight. Tsukishima wasn't as good as his brother, but he was good enough to estimate the time between _early morning_ and _ridiculously early morning_. He sighed; back at the castle, life wouldn't be beginning for a while yet.

\- - -

Akaashi appeared in a rustle of leaves and a swoosh of his robes. He looked as sleepy as Tsukishima felt, but not any more tired than usual. "Here," he said to Tsukishima, offering a hefty loaf of rye bread. It was still warm to the touch when Tsukishima took it gratefully.

The tree root Tsukishima chose to sit down on was covered in a thick layer of sea green moss, soft as a cushion. "This is your plan to stop them?"

Almost reverently, Akaashi propped his curvy wooden staff against the nearest tree, then eased a woven— _unfamiliar_ —basket off the crook of his elbow down to the ground.

"It would take them days to catch something, since Bokuto-san doesn't know how to give up." He glanced in the direction of the pond with mildly fond exasperation. "Or how to fish."

"You do realise this means that fate of the world lies in the hands of people who can be manipulated with the power of freshly baked bread?"

"And cheese. It's a pity there wasn't any milk."

Tsukishima frowned, suddenly uneasy. "The woods are supposed to be uninhabited."

"By humans," Akaashi agreed, studying Tsukishima with unreadable look on his face. Not for the first time, Tsukishima noticed that Akaashi's white magic attracted life around itself. Even now, bright, colourful butterflies were swirling in the air behind him, roused from the cold, misty slumber of the forest. One landed softly on the worn faded fabric of Akaashi's staff grip, its delicate yellow wings fluttering in the windless air. Another took a graceful swoop down to the tips of Akaashi's fingers.

Tsukishima shrugged, and bit into his bread. From the corner of his eye, he saw Akaashi smile faintly.

They ate in comfortable silence, dreadfully aware that moments like this were going to get fewer and fewer the closer they got to their destination. _If_ they ever got there.

How pathetic that sounded, Tsukishima thought mirthlessly as he took a sip from his flask. The water was icy cold, and it felt good, as if Tsukishima had been thirsty for a very, very long time.

Briefly, he wondered if Akiteru would be on duty today, standing tall and proud in the long line of knights along the eastern and western walls of the throne room. If father would be there too, hunched at his desk, looking over thin neat stacks of transactions and trade reports. If mother had already started making the dough for the sweet bread she liked to serve for dinner.

He didn't necessarily miss any of that—well, except the bread. But here in the wilderness, it was disturbingly easy to forget those ordinary everyday things. Life had been split into _before_ and _after_. And Tsukishima had never wanted his life to change.

Finished with his food, Tsukishima leaned back on his seat and relaxed against the solid wood supporting his back, heedless of the tiny pieces of bark sticking to the harsh fabric of his cloak. Now that he was listening, he could hear birds chirping somewhere above, and a gentle rumble of a waterfall, far in the distance. It was almost serene. _It was almost okay._

But it didn't last; with an excited "Holy Ifrit, that's _a very big fish_!" Bokuto tore through it like a two-handed greatsword, followed by a strike of Kuroo's almost childish awe, "Is that a _sahagin_?"

A sahagin, as it turned out, was a scaly reptilian creature with many fins. Like dark golden wings they sprouted narrowed from the long sinewy back and widened towards the end, exploding in fire red spikes, sharp and deadly. Deadlier still were the pair of pectoral fins, shaped like clawed paws—too long, too thick.

And it was floating above the crazy whirl of the pond, cocooned safely in a shifting, splashing sphere of water.

Ready to attack.

Tsukishima grabbed his staff reflexively, before he was fully conscious of the danger. Somehow, that was a very uncomforting thought.

To his left, Akaashi was already casting shell and protection spells on Bokuto, who was taking most of the damage. Like a hurricane, constantly moving back and forth, rolling left and right, Bokuto avoided each and every harsh, heavy blow of the fins. And even amidst that relentless, merciless assault, he still managed to land a couple of punches on the enemy—sadly not strong enough to penetrate through the thick hide.

But it gave Kuroo a chance to retreat back to the other mages, a safe distance away from the reach of sahagin's physical strikes.

"Hit it with lightning," he instructed, gathering electricity in his right hand, and he sounded thrilled, exhilarated even, as the air around him became heavy, tense with static and energy and _power_.

Tsukishima felt his own magic course through him, tidal and electrifying. Like a tsunami, it flooded his veins, touched every nerve, filled every cell with its essence. He took mere fraction of it. Amplified its power with his staff. And released it in short, rapid bursts of lightning that sizzled as they slashed through air.

Somewhere behind, Kuroo was laughing. "And you were so sceptical about us catching anything!"

"If this is your idea of a catch, maybe you should reconsider your future as a fisherman," Tsukishima shot back, and had barely enough time to drop to the ground when the sahagin spit a water ball in his direction. It whizzed past Tsukishima at the speed of an arrow and hit one of the oaks, leaving a permanent scar on the ancient trunk. Tsukishima was one second too slow to raise back to his feet and the next ball grazed him in the shoulder. He hissed in pain, so sharp and so cold it _burned_. He rolled to the side, taking temporary cover behind a tree. And then Akaashi's healing magic coated his wound in warm, comforting pulses; Tsukishima didn't even realise he was holding his breath until it whooshed out in relief.

Allowing himself to take a couple more deep calming breaths, Tsukishima became aware of the faint dull throbbing at the back of his head, not yet painful but enough of a reminder that he wasn't accustomed to such excessive, reckless use of magic. He grimaced.

The sudden roar of thunder was deafening. Flashes of blinding white lightning gathered around the sahagin, closed in on it, flashing, flashing, encasing it in an electric cage. The creature wailed in pain, convulsing in the middle of electric waves, one after another after another, until finally, they died. And the creature did not.

Enraged, it struck back that much harder, that much faster, stripping Bokuto down to mindless, reflexive dodging.

Tsukishima risked a look to his right, and saw last sparks die on Kuroo's open palms. He braced himself for a sarcastic remark—one that would not make Tsukishima attempt a spell of this level of stupidity, no matter what.

But Kuroo was panting heavily when he called Tsukishima's name. Even more alerting was the fact that he was already switching to his crossbow. "Can you keep the bastard electrocuted long enough for Bokuto to get close?"

"Getting too old to do it yourself, Kuroo-san?" Tsukishima said mockingly.

For a heartbeat, Kuroo was silent, and unreadable, and it was _unsettling_. But then he drew out a signature ebony bolt from the quiver at his back, and smirked. "Afraid you're too young to keep up, _Tsukki_?"

Irritation pulled at Tsukishima as if he had invisible strings attached to his every limb. Gripping the warm, familiar metal of his staff, Tsukishima sank into the mana pool inside his head, went deeper and deeper—leagues away from the very bottom, but far enough to feel the chill.

And when Kuroo gave the signal, he unleashed a torrent of sparkling lightning. He kept it pouring in a steady stream that cracked and flashed and drowned sahagin's enraged cries.

He almost missed the moment Akaashi lifted Bokuto in the air with a simple float spell and carried him up, up, up, until he was above the creature. "Hey hey hey, that's so cool!" Bokuto shouted, then smashed the creature back into the water with a double handed fist to its vulnerable unprotected head.

Everything—air, water, forest, people—was tense. A single moment when everything had come to a sudden halt, and everything was waiting.

The sahagin launched itself from the pond with a terrifying wounded screech. Staying airborne with the mighty flaps of its fins, it spun around in the last remnants of its glory, and dove right back, raining water in its wake.

Then all was finally calm.

\- - -

In the aftermath, it was decided that Kuroo and Bokuto would have to eat on the go; Tsukishima wasn't sure if it was indeed out of safety reasons, due to the world dying with each passing moment, or simply because Akaashi was feeling vindictive.

"You know, when you said you were going to get us some food," Kuroo said to Akaashi after a couple of savouring bites, "I expected something along the lines of nuts and berries." Despite his tone being light and humorous, there was no doubt that he was sick of both berries and nuts. Tsukishima couldn't blame him. "How'd you accomplish not just bread, but _cheese_?"

Akaashi shrugged, and didn't even spare a blink at Bokuto's muffled "It's because he's _that_ amazing!" exclaimed through a mouthful of food.

"Trade secrets?"

"General knowledge every mage should have."

" _Ouch_."

Bokuto guffawed and almost tripped over Akaashi's staff. Patiently, Akaashi switched it to his left hand, unaffected by Bokuto's guilty apologetic expression.

"Misidia," Tsukishima realised. "That's where you're from."

Because it certainly made sense. Hidden deep within eternal mists and ancient forests at the edge of the Water Country—at the edge of the world itself—Misidia was a place of old gods and generations upon generations of white mages. Sages from all over the world retired there when their time was due, seeking solitude and knowledge long lost. And in the ivory Tower of Wisdom, rumoured to be beyond beautiful, lay the archives of the world history, from the beginning of life to the current day.

Akaashi nodded, and that was it.

"So they do teach something at that knightling academy of yours," Kuroo commented in his stead.

"What a pity nobody taught you anything at all."

"I'm so hurt, Tsukki," Kuroo said, clenching his chest as if wounded. "Allow me to amaze you with the knowledge I have gathered all on my own, then."

Shoving the last piece of bread in his mouth, Kuroo rubbed his hands clean and reached for something under his cloak. "I've been thinking about our meeting with the Elders—now now, Tsukki, give the guy a chance before you unleash all your meanness on him."

Tsukishima rolled his eyes but bit back every comment he had ready at the tip of his tongue, curious despite himself.

After a little more fumbling, Kuroo produced an old, tattered map that he spread open in his arms. Bokuto and Akaashi huddled closer, but Tsukishima kept a careful distance even when Kuroo pointed at a big barren spot on the map. "The Desert of Shifting Sands," he said. "That's where our crystal is hiding."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Bokuto asked warily.

"If what you think I'm saying is that we have to look for the water crystal in the biggest damn desert there is, then I am saying what you think I'm saying."

"Then I think that the big bad fish must have hit you hard."

Akaashi, on the other hand, appeared to be considering it for real. He stared at the map for a moment that started simply silent but stretched slowly into anxious. And then, "Of course!"

Kuroo grinned. "Told you."

Confused, Bokuto looked from Akaashi to Kuroo and back to Akaashi again. "Uh?"

"The map the Elders showed us," Akaashi explained. "It didn't have the desert on it. There were cities, and villages, and forests."

Satisfied, Kuroo folded the map and put it back under his cloak. "They said the power of the water crystal's been lost for nearly a century now. Who's to say it went out without a fight?"

"A magical fight, epic enough to create a big-ass desert," Bokuto nodded, no doubt already imagining it in his head. "Man, crystals sure are powerful."

"They do fuel our entire world," Akaashi reminded him. Too late he realised how much of reminder to them all it was.

The silence that fell was thick and heavy, disturbed only by the sound of their shoes hitting the carpet of musky old leaves.

Walking in the lead as a self-designated guide and careful not to step on anything too poisonous, it was Kuroo who finally broke it. "There's a small village, three or four days ahead. We could stop there, catch up on news and stock on supplies." He threw a look over his shoulder. "After all, nobody has ever crossed the Great Desert, and lived to tell the tale."

Bokuto's grin was almost manic. "We will be _the first_."

Kuroo's one was just as bad. "We are _the chosen ones_."

Beyond himself with excitement, Bokuto patted Kuroo on the back, rather enthusiastically. "Not bad, my friend, not bad at all."

"Very surprising, too," Akaashi agreed.

"I hope a nasty slimy flan falls on you both."

Walking two steps behind the group, Tsukishima rubbed his temple in a vain attempt to lessen the headache his incredibly stupid use of magic earlier had caused. _Chosen ones_ , he thought. _What a damn joke._

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > Ochus are giant plant-like creatures with nasty wide mouths and floral petal skirts around their root legs. They have two long tentacles that hit hard and poison often and are all around unpleasant.  
> > Maelspikes are magical piranhas, just bigger in size. Much bigger.  
> > A word about Bokuto: he is a monk, and the only non-mage. The word might be misleading so allow me explain: monks in FF are basically badass shirtless guys with black belts in martial arts. They fight with their fists, occasionally powering them up with knuckle braces. They're like ninjas, only less sneaky and more brawny. Also, _muscles_.  
>  > Everything else will be explained eventually...probably.


End file.
